Reminiscing the Past
by Draco Is My Life
Summary: Hermione has moved on with her life, forgiving herself for things she couldn't change. A mysterious man enters the scene and when they run into each other, it's a case of new identities and hurt pasts.
1. Daydreaming and Disappointment

Spoiler Notice: This fanfiction contains information from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix." If you haven't read that book, firstly get off your ass and read it, and secondly do not read this fic.  
  
Disclaimer: Firstly, do I look like JK Rowling? Well, true you can't see me, but trust me I'm NOT JK Rowling. This story is 100% mine, except for any information including phrases, characters, and anything from Harry Potter books by the genius JK Rowling. I only claim to own this plot. So in short, don't sue me, cause you won't win (and I don't have the money to give you if you did), I have this lovely disclaimer.  
  
Chapter One—Daydreaming and Disappointment  
  
Hermione POV  
  
It's difficult to lose you best friend, even harder to lose one you love. Not any of that mushy, "love your friends" kind of thing, but the real kind of love. I should know because I lost both in one shot.  
  
Harry Potter had been my best friend since the troll incident of our first year. Our other best friend, Ronald Weasley, also stuck with us like glue. "The Awesome Three" I sometimes labeled us, seldom were we apart. Well, except for in third year when Crookshanks constantly attempted to attack Ron's rat/man and I accidentally Harry's new broomstick confiscated. Or in fourth year when Victor claimed to be "in luff" with me, and Ron got just a wee bit livid. Okay, okay! We did fight every now and then, but in the end, when it mattered, we were always together.  
  
I think it was roughly second or third year when I admitted I loved Harry, really loved him. Trying to talk to him, however, was resembled talking to a wall, a brick one specifically. He would clam up and not say a word, but Merlin, did his face turn scarlet! It would become a deep, dark shade of red similar to a brick, hence the comparison.  
  
There was that one time, in sixth year, that I make an effort to showed Harry my feelings. It was a cold winters day, on a trip to Hogsmead before Christmas Break.  
  
-Flashback-  
  
Snow is falling lightly, coating Harry's raven hair and the air is cold enough for us to see our breaths. Trailing behind him into an alley, I take a shuddering breath before reaching forward to brush the snow out of his locks.  
  
"Hermione? Ron?" he calls out cautiously, his body already tensing up, preparing for an attack.  
  
"Hello Harry," I reply, my heart pounding deafeningly in my ears. "Why don't you turn around so I can give you your Christmas present?"  
  
"Really? You've never done this before," he states, obviously surprised. As he turns to face me, I timidly positioned my right hand upon his left shoulder.  
  
"You're right, I haven't. Now close your eyes." I smile softly as he shuts those vivid emerald eyes. Closing mine in turn, I slowly raise onto my toes, as Harry was always a few inches taller than I was. Using his body for balance, I place my frigid lips on his. The kiss was soft and perfect, the type of kiss you often read in romance novels. And just as in the books, it warms my lips quickly, well; really, my whole body heats up.  
  
Harry is the initial one to pull away, his larger clothed hands gently gripping my own and holding them between his. For some reason, I expect love, admiration, or something of that sort to show in his features, but it isn't there. Instead, his eyes held a glimmer of sadness and pain and that breaks my heart.  
  
"Hermione." he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion. "We can't...this...I can't."  
  
Angry, I yank my hands back harshly, whirling around to face away from that boy, those eyes. My own eyes prickle with the imminent build up of tears, and I am unable to look toward him again.  
  
"What are you talking about!? Why not? I don't understand you, Harry! I practically throw myself to you and you break me and toss me aside! What else can I do, hmm? I'm not Cho Chang, but I thought at least. " I stop suddenly as his mittened hand came over my mouth, silencing me as he tilts my face to meet his with the other under my chin.  
  
"I can't do this because...because I don't want you to get hurt. At least, not anymore than I've all ready caused by this." Taking a shuddering breath, he continues, dropping his hand from my mouth. I don't even try to speak. "Everyone I've ever loved, or has loved me, has died or had something horrible happen to them. My parents, Sirius, Lupin, the Weasleys. I don't want to include you in that horrid list. I don't want to put you at risk."  
  
Harry speaks so softly and so tenderly that tears pour down my cheeks. Although I did not desire to hear his words, I knew in my heart that they're the truth. Even though Harry would never admit it to the world, through his touch and words that day, I knew he loved me just as much as I loved, and still love, him.  
  
-End Flashback-  
  
An irate hand rattles my shoulder and I realize that I'm not longer in Hogsmead with Harry. Instead, I'm staring out a twelfth story window over most of the Seattle skyline and I hear the rhythmic beat of someone impatiently tapping his or her foot.  
  
"Damn! Daydreaming again!" I swiftly think remorsefully. I feel sick as I dreadfully twist my head to gaze up to the face of one exceedingly furious boss. Summoning the best fake smile I can conjure, I finally speak to him in a sweet voice that I did not mean to sound so small.  
  
"Something the matter, Mr. Radcliff?"  
  
This seemingly infuriates him further, taking his skin from a blood red hue to a shade of absurd purple plum.  
  
"No Granger, nothings wrong. Go ahead and be in your little dream world while the rest of us are FIGHTING TO SAVE OUR WORLD! Oh, don't worry though, just because you're –the- MOST IMPORTANT PERSON HERE doesn't mean WE NEED YOU!" he screeches sarcastically for all of the State of Washington to hear.  
  
Cringing visibly at the harsh tone Mr. Radcliff took, I scramble to get back to work while muttering an automatic "Yes sir, of course sir, won't happen again sir,"  
  
"Make sure it doesn't," he snaps his large wobbling jaw. Waddling his enormous backside to his private office, he slams the oak door with such force that the entire staff jumps. I, on the other hand, start a stream of typing on the computer while glancing to the oak door repeatedly.  
  
"Jeez, Hermione, are you -trying- to get yourself fired?" my friend Janet smirks, hitting my shoulder playfully. Smiling softly, I shake my head and turn back to my computer.  
  
I've always been jealous of Janet's good looks. She has what I would call a "Barbie doll" body; she's the tall slim type, very leggy, with a face to match. I, on the other hand, haven't changed since Hogwarts. Her blonde locks are to die for, much more desirable than my bushy moose brown mass I call hair. Currently, pulled back in my typically large messy braid, threatens to break loose at a moments notice.  
  
"You know, you could be real pretty if you just –tried-. Straighten your mane...wear a little more make-up...maybe shed a few pounds...definitely change your wardrobe." Janet comments offhandedly, counting each item off on her perfect set of manicured fingers.  
  
"Yes I know, you've told me, let's see, hmm, every day since we've worked together!" I quickly interrupt before she got into the benefits of plastic surgery. "And each time I tell you that it's just too much work and money."  
  
"Still..." She pouts, giving me huge blue green puppy eyes. "You need a guy in your life, but you'll never get one looking like that. I just want you to be happy."  
  
"Gee, thanks for the confidence boost. But, for your information I am happy, I just don't want a guy." I said, noticeably terminating the conversation. Don't get me wrong; Janet is the closest friend I have had since Ron and Harry. But, I choose to not be on the dating scene. I was not compelled to love and lose for a second time. I never again sought to replicate the pain and heartache I experienced when Harry, The Boy Who Lived, died.  
  
A/N: It's been a while since my last update, but I needed to rethink the first two chapters and make some changes. After reviewing my written work online, I discovered a few errors and rewrote some of the first chapter. I'm sorry for my stupid mistakes of wrong tenses and such. I deleted the original chapter one, but I promised there are no big differences.  
  
Next Chapter-: We meet our mystery man, though Hermione has no clue who he really is. The real question isn't who that person is, it's how -did- Harry die. 


	2. Magical Wars and Muggles

Spoiler Notice: This fanfiction contains information from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix." If you haven't read that book, firstly get off your ass and read it and secondly do not read this fic.  
  
Disclaimer: Firstly, do I look like JK Rowling? Well, true you can't see me, but trust me I'm NOT JK Rowling. This story is 100% mine, except for any information including phrases, characters, and anything from Harry Potter books by the genius JK Rowling. I only claim to own this plot. So in short, don't sue me, cause you won't win (and I don't have the money to give you if you did), I have this lovely disclaimer.  
  
= Something explained at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter Two-Magical Wars and Muggles  
  
Hermione POV  
  
The wind rushes through my raincoat, instantly chilling me to the bone. I tug the material tighter around me and hold my umbrella closer, trying to keep the rain from pelting me. The storm pounds relentlessly as I walk to the bus station after work.  
  
Sure, it would easier for us witches and wizards to Apparate or use Floo Powder to and from work and home, but it would seem odd for people to be seen working in a building, yet never come or leave. After all, P.O.W.'s job is to hide the Magical World from Muggles.  
  
Protect Our World Company, or P.O.W. as we call it, was established after the Great Magic Battle. The Great Magic Battle was the final fight between the Good and Voldemort and his followers. Try as we did, we were not always able to conceal the results of war before Muggles saw the damage. The damage on Muggle inhabited territory was so great and so obvious that they eventually discovered there are –real- witches and wizards. They weren't exactly ecstatic about all the destruction Our War caused, so they formed People Against Magic, or P.A.M.  
  
Nine years ago, it was a modern day Salem witch-hunt. Many people, some magical some not, were persecuted. But, they were not burned at the stake like during the olden trials. Instead, they went through something much worse, much more sinister. The people were 'reformed,' turned into what they deemed 'normal.'  
  
The process wasn't very pretty or simple. The condemned people went through hours of torture every single day. It was either forget your magical abilities, or stay there forever. Movies were shown constantly about how 'evil' and 'demonic' magic was. Plus, voices played through the night, reminding the prisoners that they were horrid for doing magic.  
  
There is absolutely no way to stop or block out the sounds or pictures. Wizards and witches were stripped of their belongings and the compound was composed of a special stone called "Caedes Magius." It is a powerful stone with certain properties that repress magical capabilities. The stone was accidentally discovered through the destruction of wizard's books. Once P.A.M. found this information, they immediately constructed their associated building with it.  
  
Muggles afraid of being attacked by a witch or wizard wore this stone as a pendent around their neck. The only problem with that theory is any good wizard knows that if they stand far enough back, the stone wouldn't affect them. But that's Muggle superstition for you. Really, the stone is only effective if the wizard in question is surrounded by the material, like in a building compiled of it.  
  
Overall, it was a dreadful place to be and many of those who were contained there went crazy before being released. I know of only one person myself who survived that place with his mind intact, although devoid of his powers, Bill Weasley.  
  
Some muggle reported 'strange' lights coming from Bill's apartment and BOOM, he was taken to P.A.M. within the next hour. Fortunately, he left there after several months of treatment with his mind unharmed, but could never again perform magic.  
  
The rest of the Weasley's were devastated by this news, to hear their son and brother was taken by these magic hating Muggles and tried to help him, but there wasn't much they could do for him anymore. See, after being released, that's not the end of P.A.M.'s control. Bill had been placed in a special apartment complex filled with P.A.M. guards and official who keep a close eye on the inhabitants. Bill, as all the reformed, was fitted with a tracker unable to be removed by magic or any other means. Sadly, the Weasley's just had to let Bill go. They could not risk the exposure of the rest of the family.  
  
"Hey lady! You gettin' in or wut?" The grouchy lard of a bus driver snaps. Now that I've awakened from my trip to the past, I realize that the bus has finally arrived. Much to my dismay, the other riders aren't quite happy with my delaying the bus route and are all turned to stare at the odd lady standing outside the bus. "Oh, yes...sorry." I murmur embarrassingly. Flashing my company issues bus pass, I hop up the wet steps. Looking around the dirty public bus, I find it to be crowded as usual. Seeing one seat available next to a rather dashing man, I shuffle in his directions, excusing myself along the way. "Is this seat taken?"  
  
Caedes Magius- Latin for "magic killer." Sorry to all you Latin folk if this is incorrect phrasing or whatnot. Feel free to send me info if you speak/write/take Latin.  
  
A/N: I know, I know. I lied and said that we'd meet him this chapter, but.... I thought now would be a good stopping point. I also redid the last two chapters, so you might want to go back and reread them.  
  
Next Chapter-Bus Rides and Back Stories- We finally meet the mystery man and get a bit of explanation as to his whereabouts the last few years. 


	3. Chapter 3 Bus Rides and Back Stories

**Spoiler Notice**: This fanfiction contains information from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix." If you haven't read that book, firstly, get off your ass and read it. Secondly, do not read this fic.

**Disclaimer**: Firstly, do I look like JK Rowling? Well, true you can't see me, but trust me I'm NOT JK Rowling. This story is 100% mine, except for any information including phrases, characters, and anything from Harry Potter books by the genius JK Rowling. I only claim to own this plot. So in short, don't sue me, cause you won't win (and I don't have the money to give you if you did), I have this lovely disclaimer.

**Chapter Three-Bus Rides and Back Stories**

_-Harry's POV-_

Shifting on the lumpy, grey, vinyl seats, I watch the brown paper bag that holds my hair dye inside to make sure it doesn't fall. I aim to keep a low profile as the bus travels its way downtown toward my apartment not too far from the Space Needle. I remove my hand from its previous place on the seat only to find it pull away with a sticky pop. Wrinkling my nose, I repeatedly remind myself precisely –why- I hate these buses. While I loath the public transit system, I have no other choice as:

I have no car nor the money to get one and

I cannot get my license without first getting a permit and that requires someone else having –their- license to teach me how to drive in the -car- that I don't have.

As we reach the next stop in the route, I cannot help but crack a smile as the flustered, wet, and thoroughly mortified woman lugs onto the bus. It is a bit of a challenge to defer the appearance of the said woman due to an umbrella, hat, and high-necked raincoat obscuring her face. Watching her squeeze her way toward me, I am surprised by her timid manner when she asks for the other seat.

"No, sit right down," I reply, grabbing my grocery bag and stuffing it in my lap. She gives a grateful smile and situates herself. The girl removes her hat, revealing a head of fairly restrained, bushy auburn hair. There's something oddly familiar about that hair, something that itches for my memory to recall, but for some reason can't.

Reaching up, I tug my own hat more securely over my head. It is rather pathetic really, I am a fully qualified wizard now, but I still am afraid to attempt the "Hair Coloring" spell I had discovered years ago. So, I had to go once again to the dreaded aisle of the store containing the hair dye, and then contemplate whether I am a Shady Blonde or a Sandy Blonde.

Seeing the girl jerk and hearing her squeal loudly, I turn just in time for her red blur of an umbrella to fly open into my face. It knocks off my hat and I scramble to catch it, but it is far too late. Instead, I yank my jacket over my head, striving to hide my raven roots. The girl wrestles the umbrella for minute or two and I hear a muttering beneath her breath.

"Damn Muggle thing!"

"What did you say?" I whisper back in absolute shock.

Her amber eyes widen in immediate fear, darting about anxiously. I catch them landing on my half hidden hair and I throw my hands up over the remaining bits.

"I said...you need to re-dye your hair." She says rather hastily, although she is trying to stifle her giggles and hide her rosy blush.

"Yes, I know –that- all ready...which is why I –was- wearing a hat." I snap hotly, pointing to the fedora styled hat lying on the dusty floor nest to her feet. She scoops it up, dusting it a bit before handing it back to me. I promptly yank it on, effectively hiding the poorly dyed blonde hair with horrid black roots showing.

"I'm real sorry about that. Although, you don't see many men bleaching their hair, especially from such a dark shade...my name's Hermione, what's yours?" The girl quickly changed the topic, thankfully in my opinion, but that name stops me in mid-sentence.

"Well, yes it is unusual but I like..." My voice drops off as my mind races with memories of a certain girl from Hogwarts. My best friend, the girl I loved and who loved me back. Surely, this isn't her...no, she couldn't be her. Tthe odds are too great, there's many Hermione's, I think...But, she does have the bushy hair...Yet, she lived in England, -why- would she be in America? She did say Muggle, only witches and wizards say Muggle...

"Hello? Are you all right there? I didn't give you a concussion with my umbrella did I? Gosh, that's the last thing I would need, a hurt man on my conscience..." Hermione inquires in her worried tone, brows furrowed as she stares at me intently.

"No, I'm okay...well, at least I think so. Did you say your name is Hermione?" I cautiously question, afraid that I am just hearing what I wish and not what's there.

She, in turn, blushes furiously, looking down at her hands, which have suddenly become interesting, "Yes, it is Hermione. Why do you ask?"

"It's just...well...I thought...never mind." I sigh inwardly, not bringing my hopes up. "My name is Daniel, by the way."

That was a lie, well a half lie really. In the States and as far as everyone knows me, it's Daniel. Daniel Peterson is my name now, all the paper work displays that, and government documents confirm it. It's all a part of being in hiding, although a part of me yearns to reveal my true name, my real identity, the truth, just to see if it is she, my Hermione. But I don't. I bite my tongue and hold back all the secrets I've kept for so long yet again.

The Great Magic War had started nearly ten years ago, on October 31st. Leave it to the Dark Lord to be consistent with his attacks. Perhaps he was making an effort to appear sentimental? We'll never know for sure as no one ever asked him why he chose the dates he did.

The majority of my peers had barely turned eighteen, which was the age limit for the draft, before they thrust us into battle. Armed with little more than our wands and wits, people began to finally see the horrors I've been plagued with over my life.

There were the numerous deaths in their families, watching as their colleagues fell in battle and they weren't able to do a thing about it as they're worried about their own life, or seeing someone who they regarded as an ally turned against them. People so young shouldn't have to boast these experiences, shouldn't have knowledge of such things. Like the stench of burning flesh, what a grisly scream sounds like from your own mother, or how much blood can spurt from a neck wound. Tender minds are forever branded with these memories, just as the memories of my parent's deaths are engraved in mine.

Furthermore, it has been almost nine years since I've been called Harry Potter or set eyes on anyone from my other life. The Great Magic War ended on October 31st, exactly one year after it began. That same day everyone thought The Boy Who Lived finally did what no one ever expected him to do. He died.


End file.
